His dying words
by Tristana
Summary: He is dying - he knows it. And what does he have left, but bits and pieces of a past that led him on this path to decay he had been treading? Nagare reflects on some elements of his life and... you named it: Angsty. SPOILER FOR VOL. 11&12.


**Title**: His dying words

**Author:** Tristana

**Summary: **The last thoughts of Nagare. Because I'm a sucker for Kurosaki Nagare – just feel so bad for the guy – and I really like him. Always had, somehow.

**Warning:** ***waves the SPOILER flag* Spoilers for volumes 11 and 12** (well, mostly 12, so if you haven't read it, either you go and read it first, or you take upon yourself and don't complain about it when you read my story). Also… this is angsty (because it's Nagare, because I feel bad, because I'm away from home – and because Scottish rain is depressing!)

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Yami no Matsuei (though I wish I owned all these bishies… Darn, I want a Byakko-plushie so bad!) but I own the plot – sorta. I'm not even sure I own it.

Actually, I was supposed to write a Tatsumi fanfic – and I ended up with Nagare. Don't ask me why. I'm not sure if it's good or not, so I'll just let you see for yourself. I hope I didn't mess up too much. Nagare might sound kinda OOC but… aside from the empathy thing – that might have scared people away, I think there could have been something else to it – like Hisoka _knowing_ what was actually going on with his father.

Also, I can't see Nagare as heartless. Sure, he adored the first Hisoka – but you can't tell me he hated the kid so much – or maybe did Iwao forced him to keep the boy alive so the curse could be passed on? Oh well… those are speculations.

Anyway… we need more Nagare fics! Get to your keyboards peeps!

Now, end of author's rants, you may read.^^

* * *

I was everything I was meant to be. Sacrifice. I did everything I was meant to do. Sacrifice.

The pain would not fade, no matter how long the months that are passing by.

Years suffocating me like these bandages wrapped around my body.

A walking corpse – this is what I am.

I died years ago – I was but a child. Ignored – used – discarded. Why? This curse would fade with me – why me?

All of this to obey a father that never loved me – for a man I thought was my father.

No man would impose this to his child, no matter how difficult it would be.

Thirteen – just a child. A demon creeping closer – sound of scales. Scared. Tried to escape – Kurosaki don't run. I stayed. Cursed. Tainted. Broken. Tears mingling with blood as watery laughter fell into my ears – sickening feeling in my body.

Abused all these years. Kurosaki don't run. I stayed. For her – for the child she would give me – this child who might be saved.

A girl – fragile life trampled by one of my blood. All for the sake of tradition. I sacrificed myself! I gave up my body, my soul! Was it not enough? Why do you have to do this? She could have lived! Unharmed and lively, spared by the cursed brought upon us – upon me. But you don't understand – you are not the one who is visited at night. You are not the one whose body is battered and broken – infected.

A woman – two women. The first loved me but eventually broke. Sweet flower under the frost of her child's death – murder! I did not kill her! I did not! Stop it! Not a word! I won't hear it! I wish I could cry – Kurosaki don't cry.

The second – a puppet – a decoy. For my sanity to remain – for me to have another heir. For the curse to be brought upon my own child. I cared for her – could not love her like I did her sister. And still, the tainted blood flew into my veins – into hers as the child in her womb grew.

A boy – one who would bear the curse. Given the name of my daughter – a sick joke of fate. I brought it upon myself – penance for killing my first child. I did not kill her! It's not me! I want to scream – Kurosaki don't scream.

Anguish – he knows. My child knows of the curse – he heard it. Voices. Heard the voice of this twisted god in my head. A child cursed already. Fate is cruel. Deprive me from my daughter and gave me a son who would run away – because he would. He knows.

Anger – can't run away! I won't let him! I endured it for far too long – the burden is too much to bear. My life is dwindling – my bloodstream is a mere trickle in my veins. Oh no, my son, you will remain. Cursed as you are – you will not be the head of the family. And you will stay in the shadows where you belong. Maybe… maybe will the demon leave us alone. Or will he destroy you in silence and shadows?

I wonder if you will feel as broken and dead as me…

A tomb – another one. My son died. But was he ever my son? Now I know – the demon would never leave my family alone. And now, with no one to keep the line after me – it will break free. I did not want him to go away – yet he did. I wish I knew who did it – who destroyed him… Should I hate them? Should I feel relieved?

Loneliness – a shroud I wrought for myself. Dead, they all are – except my tormentors. One haunts my days – the other poisons my nights. And I am helpless. And sometimes, I feel like indeed, my children were lucky – for they never had to go through the ordeal of life like I did.

Forty years or so spent in this place… My body is not mine anymore. My will is not mine anymore. All I have are tombs, a twisted god and a decoy of a wife who might die at her sister's own ghost's hands.

Life spent in guilt, resentment and self-disgust. I am damaged and I destroyed all those around me. My end is close – and nothing would ever change it. I did everything I could – but I never did it for the villagers. I did it for myself. For my kin – for those of mine who fell victims to this curse and the villagers' hatred.

Kurosaki don't laugh, nor do they cry or scream. But now, I am laughing – laughing bitterly for everything is ending now – laughing because I finally took my revenge on my brother and father – brother, he will come for you too. Smiling a skull's smile – it hurts. Why does it hurt so much?

I am crying too – crying for my daughter I lost – the daughter who was stolen from me again – for the woman I loved who faded away. And maybe… am I shedding tears for this boy who was my blood and flesh – whom I denied a normal life and who might be waiting for me with vengeance in his eyes? I smile through my tears, for it would be only fair – but I cry still – for I broke him as I was destroyed.

Screams echoing – are those mine? The pain is too much to bear – it burns, it freezes – my body is melting and going rigid. My mind is numb and I feel like my blood is eating me away.

Death is not supposed to be sweet – never expected as much. But I wonder… Are you really waiting for me?

Kurosaki are not supposed to hope or expect anything – but as the last of them, why should I care? Kurosaki are never sorry for what they do… But I am.

I was everything I was supposed to be. I did everything I had to. But in the end, I just am a dying man and nothing matters when death is looking at you.

Somehow, I wish I saw it before… How much you mattered to me.

Kasane… Rui… My so fragile daughter… My untimely destroyed son – the son I killed… The son I should have loved... Hisoka…

* * *

Are you alive peeps? Would you mind to tell me what you think about it? Please? (Okay, I just am being clingy, much in Tsuzuki-style… I leave… *goes with Byakko-plushie for cuddles*)

See you soon!


End file.
